Malcubus Ch. 08: Shaken, Then Stirred

How, then, did she let the conversation get around to their sex lives?

"I'm, uh, single," Ana said. "Obviously. I had a boyfriend, but we broke up a few months ago, and I've been living it up, living the single life!"

"Whoo!" Rosie called. "Sister, represent!"

Ana smiled. Sure, as if someone who looked like Rosie knew what it was like to be single. "Yeah. It's... okay. I feel like a bit of an Underground Woman sometimes, and I spend a lot more on drinks than I used to."

"Well, let me remedy that," Rosie said, standing up. Ana found herself instinctively rising too, leaning towards her, before catching herself and sitting back down. "I'm going to get us a round of drinks. People do rounds in these places, right?"

"It has been known to happen," Eric said.

"Coolio." Rosie took drink orders and bounced away to the bar. She made it ten paces from their table before having to duck and weave between a pair of approaching, eager-looking males.

And then Ana was alone with Eric. "Wow," she said, still looking after Rosie's departing form.

"My dear Anastasia," he said in a chiding tone, "I do hope you were not ogling that fine young lady's ass just then."

"What? Uh..." Did he think she was slutty? Did she care? "Kind of," she admitted.

"Wretched behaviour," he snorted, "not befitting a landed woman of your class."

"You think I'm classy?" Rosie's ass was out of view now; damn. "Swing and a miss."

"Please, you name-drop classical references like Rosie drops giggles. And anyway," he said, leaning forward conspirationally, "it is a fantastic ass, isn't it?"

A very un-ladylike groan escaped Ana's lips without a thought. "Yeah." When she felt his warm breath - damn, he smelled good for someone who isn't Rosie - she realized she was leaning in too, and backed up a little. She nodded towards the bar. "So come on, I've told you about my love life."

"Oh, you were very informative. 'I had a boyfriend, now I'm single.' You should write a book!"

"Shut up!" She was almost tempted to slap him, so that he'd gently tap her back, but that would again have been un-ladylike. "Seriously, I told you, so you tell me. Are you two going out?"

"We aren't, and we're not going to." Eric grimaced. "It's... complicated."

"That doesn't sound good."

"You really want to hear about my love life?"

Ana nodded.

Eric grinned. "I can't imagine what motivation you could have for asking such questions. Okay, short version? I don't know whether I should get too close to any girls right now. I've kind of - I've got some stuff going on in my life that's kind of unusual. Probably dangerous. I don't want anyone to get hurt, so it's probably not a good idea for me to let women get... close to me."

"Close to you?" Ana put a hand on his knee and grinned. "Is my life in danger right now, just talking to you?"

"Shut up."

"Next you'll be telling me you're a secret agent, or that the Mafia's after you for a - a kidnapping gone wrong, or something."

"Well, it wasn't a kidnapping exactly..."

She laughed. It was often hard to tell when Eric was being serious or not, which made deciphering that 'confession' a fair amount of work. She'd probably be wondering about it in her bed later. After masturba- stop, that was a bad thought! "You know you didn't really tell me anything about your current sex life, Eric."

"You're a sharp one."

"So you're not with Rosie?"

"Not in any of the ways you're thinking. You've got a dirty mind, I can tell."

Ana snorted in frustration. "You're seriously just friends, then?"

Eric grinned. "Again... it's complicated." He dodged the slap.

Rosie returned juggling drinks before Ana could throttle the guy. Vodka, a jack and coke, whatever - she felt halfway to drunk already. She'd had barely anything, but her whole body was twitchy and happy and needy. It reminded her of the absinthe shots she'd done a few months ago with Heaven. The three of them tapped their glasses together. "Prost!" Rosie toasted, her German accent much improved.

Ana knocked back her drink without really tasting it. How could that girl make a German accent sound that smooth and sexy? The noise of the bar seemed to quiet, letting her thoughts run free and loud through her head as a pleasant tingle travelled down to her toes. Alcohol. It was nice.

"So, Rosie," Eric said, "I saw you got some attention at the bar."

He was facing towards me. How did he see her? Or is he just assuming?

"Nothing I couldn't handle."

"No?"

"I told you, they weren't my type."

No way are they just friends, look at how she's staring at him. But she's, like - she could be a model, easy. Why is she so into him?

"You're going to need to come up with a better excuse for your bachelorette status, Rosie."

"I'm an incredibly virtuous and devout woman? I'm saving myself for marriage?"

"Missionary sex for the sole purpose of procreation, is that it?"

"Through a hole in the sheet, mister Eric, sir!"

Oh god, sex. He must be huge or something, that's why she's with him. I could believe it, but I'd have to see it myself -

"Ana," Eric said, mock-serious. "Have you been maintaining your virtue of chastity?"

"Mnuh?" Everything was so warm. Her whole body felt like a coil wound up too tight, shaking with energy, with the need for release. "Uh, yeah, of course." Don't let him think you're a slut!

"Oh, I'm sorry, dealbreaker," he joked. "I only date bad girls who are terrible for me."

"That's, uh..." Ana rubbed her thighs together. Fuck, her dress was so tight, she could feel it shift across her skin as she wriggled. "Maybe I wouldn't date you anyway?"

"Probably wise," Rosie nodded sagely. "Eric's bad news for upright, virtuous ladies like you and me. Tell you what, we should run away to a nunnery."

"I was wondering about that - holy ground, holy water, whatever. Would you catch fire or something?" Eric asked.

"Only if I'd been really naughty recently - "

"Excuse me," Ana said, wobbling to her feet. "Bathroom."

She barely noticed the people or the pounding music as she pushed through to the club's bathrooms. The whole world was background chatter, a blurry landscape she was driving by. Eric and Rosie were in the car with her, enigmatic and attractive, and her whole body felt like an engine revving up. Engines, after all, were hot and well-lubricated.

She caught herself staring at other girls' asses as she fidgeted in the short queue for the toilet. Fuck, what was wrong with her? She was straight, she was sensible, she was about to -

No, no, she wasn't going to do that. Anastasia Kyczka was a sensible woman who'd just let singlehood and a few drinks go to her head, and she just needed to get alone in the stall for a few minutes to breathe and calm down.

Right. Sure.

She locked the stall door. Thirty seconds passed before she sat down and pulled her dress up, and most of that was spent wiping down the toilet seat.

"Oh fuck," she mumbled, feeling her dark blue panties. Wet, actually literally wet. She didn't get this wet during actual sex, not any time with any of her boyfriends. She pushed the panties aside; first one finger, then two, slipped into her folds. They started pumping in and out while the her thumb rubbed over her clit, straight shooting, no fooling around. Her thighs started to quiver as she bit her lip, heedless of smudging her lipstick.

Ana had told herself that she wouldn't think about Eric or Rosie, but those lies got left on the roadside pretty quickly. Her fingers worked, the accelerator pressed down, and her engine roared.

She came once fairly easily. It was harder after another girl banged on the stall door, telling her to hurry up, but she still brought herself to a second climax within five hyperventilating minutes. Trying for a third was tempting, but she'd been in here for a while and she didn't want Eric to run off, or Eric and Rosie getting together in her absence. No, if that happened, she wanted to be there to watch.

The panties were damp and gross; she let the coiled-spring energy build up inside her for a moment, giving her courage, then stripped them off and dropped them by the toilet. Cheap and unflattering things anyway. What had she been thinking, wearing those on a night out?

The thrill of stripping off the panties, of pulling her black dress down over her hips and wiping her sodden fingers on the toilet paper, the shame and excitement and engine-rattling energy: it was very clear that she wasn't done. Fuck, she wasn't done. She needed sex more than she ever had before, the warm pulse of her pussy more important than anything else around her. Eric and Rosie were what she wanted - fuck, how she wanted them - but the two orgasms had only made her hornier, not calmed her state of mind. If she couldn't get laid with either or both of them, she'd have to find some other stud here tonight and borrow his dick ASAP.

A small line of girls gave her judgmental glares as she headed to the sinks. An embarrassed flush coloured her cheeks even as more blood pumped downwards, fuel for the pistons, accelerating, always accelerating.

***

ERIC

I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised to find out that Ana wasn't wearing any panties. Maybe it was just the shock of her taking my hand as we grinded together, bringing it down, and guiding it up under the hem of her dress.

Now, I wasn't exactly Casanova before meeting Rosie. I mean, I met Rosie because I was the kind of guy who actually knew enough Latin to pull off a summoning spell I didn't even believe would work. That guy doesn't get out much. But my loving (or at least lustful) succubus had shown me all the functions of her vagina in lascivious detail, and I'd been a most willing student, so I fingered Ana to orgasm on the corner of the dance floor. Nobody was timing us, but I felt pretty good about my effort.

I'd grilled Rosie while Ana was in the bathroom.

"You spiked her drink," I said quietly.

Rosie stuck out a long pink tongue right next to my face, as if daring me to suck on it. "Did not."

"Did too. She's visibly horny, enough that even I can tell. That doesn't happen to girls."

"It does, Eric, you just need more practice reading women," Rosie sighed, as if explaining basic etiquette to a recalcitrant toddler. "She's been giving off positive signals to you all night, the vodka just made her terrible at hiding it."

"Riiiight," I said warily. "Sure. See, I thought tonight was about me seducing girls on my own initiative."

"After the first few minutes, you've been coming up with all your own lines. You've been doing great, really." A strapping guy approached from over her shoulder with clear intents of introducing himself; just as he entered earshot, she stage-whispered to me, "I'm amazed you were still a virgin the first time we fucked."

He hesitated for a few seconds behind her, then backed away when Rosie leaned forward to kiss me. The look he gave me was somewhere between murderous hatred and congratulations.

"Of course," she added as we parted, "we are cheating a little bit." {Just sitting next to me is doing all kinds of fun things to her aura.}

I'd suspected Rosie had some sort of close-range effect. Pheromones? "So I assume Warren and, uh, Heaven are hitting it off?"

Rosie smiled. "You betcha." {And check out the table to your right.}

There had been a group of older professionals a few metres down from us. Now only two were left, and the woman was on the man's lap. They'd get kicked out by the bouncers if their current embrace advanced much further.

{The rest of them are on the dance floor, hitting on attractive people with the confidence of chimpanzees.}

"Chimps are confident with women?"

{You mortals could learn a lot from lesser beasts like them.}

Rosie poked my belly button, drawing my focus back to her. "Anyway, don't refuse my help if I offer it. I can't babysit you all night; I'm a gourmet, and this place is a five-star buffet."

Do not feel jealous, I reminded myself. She is a succubus, it's her nature. "Oh?"

"Yep," Rosie winked at me. "I thought I'd hit on a couple of girls, see where I got. It's not fair if only one of us gets pussy tonight."

That... that, my boner didn't seem to find problematic. "Gulp. Um, I thought you couldn't feed without my involvement?"

"Mostly," she admitted, "but you're getting horny just thinking about me licking one of these sluts. That's enough connection for me to get something out of it. Plus, if I get myself a girlfriend... she can cheat on me with you." Her fingers brushed my cock, which was paying very close attention. She snatched her hand back after a tantalizing moment. "Or, you know, easy threesome. I get my Lust either way. So, do I have your blessing?"

I chuckled aloud at the sight of her sitting, wide-eyed and head-cocked, looking at me with innocent expectation. My succubus was adorable, even (or especially) when discussing the lewdest of subjects.

"Fine, fine, go ahead. Take pictures."

"I'll give you running commentary, if you like." {I can't send images or sensations through the amulet yet, but a little more Lust and who knows.} Speaking of lust, here comes our friend!"

Ana looked different when she returned from the bathroom: frazzled, flustered, but there was a new focus in her eyes, a purpose to her step. Rosie had melted away by the time she reached our table, and I hadn't noticed her leaving.

"Eric," Ana said breathily, bending over as she sat down. Damn, her tits were a fair size, and that dress was a frame worthy for such a picturesque sight. "So we're all alone, are we?"

"Apparently."

"I can deal with that," she said as if talking to herself. "So you're a big guy, Eric. Tall, long legs. You must do some sport?"

Competitive pentagram-tracing. "I do a lot of exercise with Rosie, now. I played basketball in high school, but I was never quite black enough to make it big. Uh, that was a joke."

"Right," she said, distracted. "You probably didn't dance."

"It crushed the dreams of my father, who always wanted a prima ballerina, but no."

Ana looked up at me as she bit her lip. It was, impossibly, an even more arousing sight than her satin-sheathed breasts. "Do you want to dance?"

"With you?" I asked innocently.

She slapped my knee, so I slapped hers, and she quivered a little before I led her to the dance floor, walking with more confidence than I felt.

These places weren't my style. I'd spent enough nights awkwardly bobbing and trying not to bump anyone with tattoos to know that I would never be at ease in the clubs of my generation, just as I could never appreciate their music. And yet it's astounding how tolerable it became when there was a hot chick in a tight dress holding my hips and moving her body to the beat.

The DJ was enthusiastic, so it was hard to discern the breaks between distinct songs, but it probably wasn't more than one chorus-chorus-rapping-chorus before Ana was grinding against me openly. She'd noticed my erection, alright, and she was saying hello, which just made him want to wave back. It was another song before we kissed. I tried to remember Rosie's lessons as I held her, but I mostly just thought of her warmth and her soft body in my hands. Ana was a much less aggressive kisser than my succubus, but she wasn't exactly shy, either. She tasted of spit and alcohol: human, without any fancy succubus chemicals or demon-length tongue. Her groin pressed into mine in a whole-body shiver when I sucked her lower lip gently. She pulled away and hissed something in my ear, but I couldn't hear it over the music.

That was about when we resumed what only a blind eunuch could mistake for 'dancing', and another song passed before she slipped my finger inside her. I couldn't believe I was fingering a girl on the edge of a crowded dance floor, but Rosie and I had done crazier things in brighter public places, and it was after midnight.

When Ana came, she didn't squirt all over my fingers or moan deliriously. She took a few deep, fast breaths and pressed her thighs together tightly, trapping my fingers inside her. That was it. Nobody cried out in accusation, the music didn't skip, and the bouncers didn't kick us out, so I figured we had been reasonably discreet.

Of course, I also figured that I didn't have to worry about Rosie for the rest of the night, so my judgment is hardly impeccable.

As much as I was growing to appreciate the charm of dancing at a club, Ana had other ambitions. The orgasm - that had been an orgasm, right? - had calmed her down for a few minutes, but some prolonged necking got her all warm and wriggly again. Pretty soon we were off the dance floor where we could talk, and it didn't take much of that for me to pop the question: "Can we go somewhere quieter?"

She rubbed her arms together, which made her breasts swell up. A thought burst into my head, clear as glass: I'm going to fuck those tits. That was something Rosie would say, or at least approve of.

"That'd be great," Ana said. "We could... My place is just, uh, just outside the city. University dorms, you know."

"I'll get us a cab." Sneaking Rosie around my sister was enough trouble without midnight liaisons as well. Plus, holy engorged zucchini, Batman: I was going back to a girl's place from a club. My excitement was more sophisticated than mere arousal. This was virgin territory for me, in at least one manner.

That thrill of the unfamiliar stayed with me even as we made our way towards Sunday's' exit and I caught sight of Rosie.

"Oh, fuck," Ana moaned, a little too huskily. "You should have said she was a lesbian."

"Um," I said. I'd seen Rosie make out with another girl before - if she hadn't been expanding my horizons so fast, it would have been a central fixture of my nightly fantasies. The girl she'd currently locked lips with was a bit hotter than the last one, as well.

She was also my friend Caitlin.

"Hey, what's the matter? Jealous?" Ana poked me in the side.

"Right," I shook my head. "Nothing to see here." Ana pressed against my side, and I looked down at her teasingly. "Does it turn you on, seeing that?"

"...no."

"It does, doesn't it?"

"Damn it, let's get a cab," she whispered.

I didn't have very long to think about what I'd seen. Rosie had mentioned perhaps meeting Caitlin when we were out tonight, true. She'd looked good, too, like she'd actually paid attention to her makeup and hair. Although maybe that just the Rosie attached to her face. She was seducing my friends now? I mean, as far as I knew, Caitlin wasn't even a lesbian!

Then again, Ana probably wasn't a slut. She still had my pants off before we even reached the bed.

**

At her encouragement I kept her worked up in the taxi, rubbing her pussy through her dress, running my hand up and down her exposed thigh. If the driver hadn't been a humourless-looking Sikh she probably would have unzipped me then and there. But no, I made her wait until we reached the university where she lived in college housing. It was 1:30am by the time we got there, and it was mostly empty during the holidays, so we had no trouble getting into her dormitory unmolested.

Once we were inside, of course, the molestation proceeded apace.

I wanted to tear her dress off and fuck her without preamble, but Rosie's lessons had a memorable je ne sais qois that helped them stick in my mind. 'On your first night together, fuck her like it's her last fuck. Fuck her so good and so hard that she's left a quivering mass of shaking flesh and sex fluids. Here, like this, I'll show you.' Thanks, Rosie.

I fingered her again hard over the couch, mainly because it was the first piece of furniture I saw when we got in the door. She came once and tried to stand up, but I held her down and massaged her g-spot (harder to find than Rosie had led me to believe, but I got to it eventually) while massaging her tits with my other hand, and soon enough she was panting her way to a second orgasm. After that I let her stand up, and her dark eyes were desperate. "Enough. I need your dick in me. Now."